Purple Hearts and Fights
by Lady Nightshade
Summary: Sometimes a letter, a medal, and a folded flag aren't enough to console you when the one you love is dead. A lesson that each of the Howling Commandos learns from the women closest to them when the angel of death is close enough to each of them to touch.
1. Lorraine and Dum Dum

AUTHOR'S NOTES: At first this was going to be a one shot but I sorta decided that each Commando deserved their own chapter. The relationships between the women and the commandos will range across the board.

Private Julia Lorraine _was not_, in anyway shape or form, pleased when her guy, Corporal Timothy Aloysius Cadwallader "Dum Dum" Dugan, showed back up at base camp with a purple heart. Furious, wouldn't even _begin_ to describe it. The Old Testament wrath of God probably would pale in comparison to the anger she was feeling at the news. They had argued, loudly in fact, about whether or not the award was an honor to receive. He kept pointing out that it _was_ okay because he came home. She kept pointing out that coming home _is not_ the point, rather vulgarly in fact because she had been spending too much time with him. Nearly getting himself nearly blown up in the first place _is_ in fact the damn point. That getting a purple heart and a folded flag instead of a leaving breathing body _does not_ make up for the loss of a loved one. In the long run its nothing more than an empty conciliation prize.

"Here," she had said more than a touch of bitterness in her voice. "Here's an award and piece of fabric in place of your son, husband, brother, father, uncle, cousin, or anyone else under the sun. Thanks for letting us use him as cannon fodder."

And they both knew this because they both lost a father to the first World War in some form or another. His father had died in active combat. He still remembered what it was like to watch his mother fall apart as she was handed the folded up flag. Her father had died while battling a leg infection that kept resurfacing and they had to keep amputating more and more until one day there was nothing left to amputate and it reached his heart. And that was the end.

Dum Dum didn't want that fate for her but he had a cause that he believed in and she believed in it too. That was perhaps part of the problem. Dum Dum's mother had eventually stabilized and resettled into her widowed life. Julia's mother never had and had continued to drink more and more until her death a few years later. After that she had grown up with her mother's biblical strict mother and less strict, but still a minister, father.

It had been her grandfather who had driven the point of nothing being a good enough conciliation prize home with her. When she was fifteen she had crept downstairs to the kitchen for a drink of water and had found her grandfather sitting at the kitchen table writing a eulogy.

"Julia," he had said all those years ago with a soft sigh as he rubbed the space between his eyes. "There is nothing in the world that you, me or anyone else can say that will take the hurt away."

She had nodded because, even though she had been a toddler when her father died she still to some extent remembered how little the words of comfort had done for her mother. She certainly remembered how little it had done for her at her mother's funeral.

"One cannot," he had gone on to say. "Wrap up a single person's life in a few short sentences and let that be that. It doesn't work that way. You can tell a person, 'sorry for your loss' until the you're blue in the face. But it won't help. It won't let the pain go away and in some cases will only make it worse. Remember that. And if you ever have to do it. Make sure you do it as best you can and leave out all the bullshit that is nothing more than empty platitudes that don't mean a hill of beans."

"I will."

And she did her best to use her grandfather's advice as she wrote condolence letter after condolence letter in the war. She never dreamed of the possibility of one day nearly being on the other end of one. At least not until Dugan had come into her life.

Dugan was well associated with death his uncle had been one of the ones to write the condolence letters or to make the condolence knocks. He had always claimed it was the cause of his alcoholism. And with all the death Dugan as seen lately he can certainly see why. He prays he never as to make the same house stop his uncle did. After all there was only so much heartbreak a person could deliver and sometimes they had to hand out more than one a day, before they either became indifferent or crazy. Dugan's uncle had warned him to be careful of the ones who became indifferent they were always going to be the worst.

And if they were both?

"Well sometimes," his uncle had said and this is burned into Dugan's head. "Sometimes, you have nothing left to do but put down the rabid dog before his rabies spread and cause more heartbreak. Those were always the worst. Having to tell someone that the good man they thought they knew had lost it and tried to take out other innocent lives."

His uncle had sighed then, a heavy sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

"It never gets easier," his uncle had gone on to say. "You just have to take a deep breath and pray to whatever deity is listening that you can do it as gently and smoothly as possible. But no matter how gentle or smooth you do it, it will always, _always_ be horrible. There will be screams, curses, tears, and you will always know that you have just made that day a living hell for them."

That's why Dugan fights so hard and so long as he does. Because he doesn't want to be the cause of the condolence letters. He doesn't want a condolence letter to go out to someone close to him, because of him if he can help it. So him being a subject of one didn't really bother him. That was why he existed to fight the good fight for others to make it home alive. There was no one alive to mourn his death.

Not until Julia.

When Julia graduated from high school a year early and had gotten the hell outta dodge as soon as she could. At college she had meet the man who was going to be her husband and for awhile they were happy. But after Pearl Harbor and getting smacked around for telling him off for cheating on her she had up and divorced him, with some help from a few friends who knew people. She had then promptly enlisted in the army. Once again getting the hell outta dodge. Because she knew her name was mud after divorcing her husband even if the entire town knew he had been cheating and beating on her left and right. Of course, she hadn't expected to fall in love again so soon. Not for a long time actually. She had admitted to being infatuated with Captain America but she had been brought up not to mess with another woman's man and once she found out that he was Agent Carter's that put an end to that. But seeing Dum Dum and Mister Stark help the good Captain with his motorcycle had caused a familiar wanting ache inside of her.

He wasn't her type.

It was a mantra she repeated to herself over and over again as they kissed. Dugan was _not_ her type. And it was now a lie, perhaps it had been from the start, because while at one time it had been true it wasn't true now. And she wanted him desperately. Oh how she wanted him. She wanted his hands on her which at times were so skilled he could work her to an orgasm simply by stroking her rare and thighs. But when she first realized she was falling for a soldier, actually falling for one, the panic had set in and it was everything she could do not to scream in terror.

Love shouldn't cause that sort of reaction in anyone. He had understood because he had the same fear and they both agreed to work it out as they went. And for awhile things went smoothly and then the bomb happened and the panic and fear rushed forward with a vengeance.

"Dollface," he said, pulling her into his arms despite her struggling. "It's okay. I came home."

"This time!" she screamed, pounding her fists into his chest. "This time you came home. What about next time? Or the time after that? Or the one after that? What about them?"

"And I promise that I will come home next time."

"But you don't _know_ that!"

"As long as I have you I will always come home."

Dugan pulled her tight into his embrace and rested his head on hers. His hand running up and down her spine. Letting her sob as he continued to whisper that he would always come home to her. Hoping it was a promise he could keep. He would continue to fight the same way he always had but now he would fight so he wouldn't _be _a condolence letter.

He wouldn't put her through that. Not when he had a ring to buy that he had his eyes on and a future that looked brighter than ever. He had a girl, friends, and a future to fight for. A purple heart award and a flag wouldn't cut it for him. Not anymore. Not when there was someone and later someones who would be depending on him. He would always, always fight. But now he had more to fight for and in the end that was all he needed to be complete.


	2. Bucky and His Mother

Sergeant James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes slammed his head against the wall as he listened to his mother cry. Somewhere between the sobs there were the words purple heart, bomb, funeral, and grandpa.

"Ah come on Mom don't cry!" he groaned cringing as his mom blubbered on and on about her son nearly dying. "Please don't cry. Look I'm fine. I'm in one piece."

Bucky decided not to mention that he almost lost an arm in the explosion. He and Falsworth exchanged looks as they tried to calm down the crying woman on the other end of their respective lines. Bucky felt that the Brit had it worse since he was trying to calm down his distraught wife.

"No, mom getting nearly blown up is not an everyday thing. No, mom. I swear to you. I'm not lying."

The clerk snorted and both Bucky and Falsworth shot him a silencing glare. Because if you were trying to calm down a loved one and assure them that the chances of them coming in contact with a bomb again was nearly nonexistent wasn't helped by someone disproving that.

"Mom if you want I can have Steve call you later on when he gets out of the meeting and he will back me up."

And Steve would back him up. If for no other reason to avoid this whole situation that Bucky was dealing with. Thankfully Steve had gotten better at lying to people. Which he would need when it came to Bucky's mom. Who knew both Bucky and Steve like the back of her hand and would be able to tell if either of them were lying to her. But with Steve that wasn't hard to do and Bucky would get caught in a lie trying to cover for Steve and it would all go downhill from there. Thankfully it was a lot harder for his mother to grab their ears over the phone.

"Mom," he began again. "I promise that was the first bomb that ever went off and I am certain that it won't happen again. In fact I know it won't happen again."

He hopes that his tongue won't turn black and fall out by the amount of lies he is telling his mother. And again he shoots the clerk and warning glare and resists the urge to throw something at the man.

"Yes, mom," he said dragging himself back to the conversation at hand. "Me and Steve are taking care of each other. Yes, he is taking care of me and I am taking care of him too. Yes, mom I promise we are both going to come back alive."

Bucky sighed again as his mother sniffled. At least she had stopped crying for the moment at least.

"Mom, getting the purple heart was an honor-."

He cursed and jerked the phone away from his ear as his mother went from crying hysterically to screaming in fury. Okay in hind sight that probably wasn't the best thing to tell his mother. Who still at times missed her twin brother whom she had lost in the first world war. And kept the flag her parents had got at his funeral over the fire place with his dog tags resting on top. Beside it was a picture of Bucky's uncle in his uniform smiling at the camera. It was the last photo he had taken.

"Mom-." he tried.

All he got was screams of fury from his mother.

'"War to end all wars", my ass,' he thought as he rolled his eyes to the sky and rubbed his head while he waited for his mother to pause for air.

"Mom," he began attempting once again to break into her tangent.

He sighed and leaned against the wall as he tapped his foot and waited out the storm. Sometimes when his mom got like this there was nothing left to do but to ride it out until it was over. When it sounded like his mother was about to run out of steam he dove right in before she could get another fresh start.

"Look mom," he said calmly. "I promise we are all going to come home. If anyone of us die the others will probably drag him back from the dead and kill them for having the gall to die on them. But none of us are going to die!"

The last part is said quickly to avoid more tears and yelling.

"I just don't want you to end up like James, Bucky."

"Yeah mom I know," he said sighing. "But I'm not going to wind up like him. I'll be home before you know it."

He's lying to his mother.

He doesn't know how he knows this but he can't help but shake the feeling he is lying to his mother. There is a feeling he has been having ever since he escaped the Hydra camp that he won't make it home. He doesn't know if this is a holdover of his time there or if it's a sign of things to come. He doesn't want to worry his mother or his friends with his worries. It's nothing. That's what he keeps telling himself and he hopes one day it will be true. He puts it out of his mind the best he can because he knows that if he dwells on it too much he will make a mistake.

And he can't afford to make a mistake in his line of work. Neither of them can for that matter. They depend on each other to get out of it the war and fights alive and home to their loved ones.

"Mom," he said. "We are all going to come out of this alive and chances are Steve will be coming home with a girl or maybe even a wife."

That thankfully stopped the tears for the time being. His mother _loved_ the thought of a wedding. And since she considered Steve a second son the thought of a wedding in the family really made her happy. Of course, that lead to her demanding to know when he planned to start looking into settling down and finding a nice girl to marry.

"Yes mom," he said. "I promise if I don't find a nice girl here I will start looking for one to settle down with when we get back home."

Well, at least she wasn't crying of terror anymore. No. Now she was crying of happiness. Because the very thought of weddings did that to her. He could already see her writing out plans and ideas for the weddings. God help them all.

But he was still going to leave out the fact that he had at least three girls back home that he was exchanging letters with and one USO girl. So he really wasn't hurting for possible dames to marry. Should he actually decide to take that next step and even if he didn't want to take that step there was always Steve and Peggy to provide the grandchildren. Just in case his mother decided to plan a wedding for him too since she was probably already planning Steve's. Plus if she and dad actually met the rest of the Commandos he was sure his mother would be hip deep in grandbabies in no time and wouldn't be at all upset about it. And with how Dum Dum and Julia were going at it chances are the grandchildren issue was going to happen much sooner then he thought. And if that did happen he had every intention of telling his mother so it would get her mind on knitting baby blankets and booties instead of things like finding him and Steve a wife. Or them getting their asses almost blown to the moon.

"I promise it's all going to be okay. I promise when this war is over we will see about getting the entire group together with all our families and celebrate."

He hopes that by then they would have let Jimmy's family out of the internment camps and found Jacques's wife and daughter. Who hopefully wasn't in a HYDRA or Nazi internment camp. He had seen photos of the slight young women that were related to his French friend and the thought of one of them being in the hands of enemy scientists made his stomach heave. And while he would admit that he would have been the first to think they had gotten what was coming to them at the time. His mother had agreed with Steve on how no one deserves to be fenced in like cattle. Being a prisoner in the Hydra camp as well as going on missions with Jimmy had made him understand that when it came to being American it had nothing to do with where your forefathers came from.

Luckily for them the Hydra bastards hadn't expected them to eventually set aside their differences and get along. He doubted they would have placed them together if they had thought their combined hatred of Hydra would have trumped racial and national biases. Even if it did take them awhile to do it. And once the dust settled and Steve gathered his crack pot team all was well with the world.

"Look mom," he said slowly. "I gotta go and let some of the other guys have the phone. I'll try to get a letter out to you and dad this week. Yeah, okay. Yeah love you too."

He hangs up the phone with more promises of letters from both him and Steve and waves to Falsworth on his way out. No matter how bad Bucky thought it was when it came to talking to his mother about nearly getting blown up he didn't think it was half as bad as talking to your pregnant wife about it.


End file.
